Hiding In Plain Sight
by AvengersIsLife
Summary: Sam Wilson has an interesting visitor to one of his meetings.


"It's not easy to adjust back to this life after you serve. From your bed being too soft, to not being able to distinguish a floating trash bag from a grenade, life can be rough. But that is no reason to give up. We've all seen things, terrible things, and some here have done the absolute worst a man can do, which is kill. We did it to protect America, to keep us, and everyone we love, safe and free. Now, it's not right to take a life, but we did what we had to do. We're still free, aren't we?"

Sam Wilson paused, and took a deep breath. He looked around seriously at the group of people before him, wishing he could rid the hurt from their eyes.

"Is there anyone here who would like to talk?"

A man with balding brown hair stood up, removing a pair of dark sunglasses. He wore a crisp black suit, but no tie. Sam noticed that he hastily pulled a badge or name card from his front and shoved it deep into his pocket as he stood up. If Sam hadn't know that all S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents were currently taking cover from HYDRA, then he would have guessed that this man was an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. His mysterious personality, lean stature, and the sunglasses inside all pointed to S.H.I.E.L.D.

The man cleared his throat. "I, uh, sort of know what it's like. I did quite a few undercover missions, and was in the line of fire a lot, often by myself. Personally, it wasn't so bad until you had to face your thoughts back at base. The thing that makes you loose your mind though, is when you get hit yourself. Then you really begin rethinking all of the decisions you've made."

The man's voice drifted away, and Sam could see the pain in his eyes. He wondered if that was why the man had been wearing the sunglasses.

"I've never been hit to the point where I knew I was going to die, but that thought surely crossed my mind. Has anyone else experienced that?" Sam asked.

A few people raised their hands. Sam turned back to the man. "How badly did you get hit?"

The man gave crooked half smile. "Bad enough to stop my heart for... a while."

A few people gave him sympathetic looks, but the man stared at the floor, seemingly confused.

"Where? Sam asked.

"Chest. Through my heart."

Sam shook his head. "How'd you get through it? Did you ever go back into the field?"

The man sighed. "Some things you can't get over, you know? You just learn to deal with it. Things are different now, and I'm still curious as to how you're supposed to live after something like that. Once something happens, and you can't explain it, you start questioning things. Yeah, I sort of got back in the field, but my director is keeping a careful watch on me. Like I said. Things are different now, and you learn to appreciate the old days, you know?"

The man shrugged, and Sam smiled inwardly. He was reminded of man that he had run with not too long ago. Sam swore to himself that if he heard "On your left" one more time, he was going to go insane. Sam nodded to the man, and he took his seat as the meeting continued.

When the meeting finally concluded, most people filed out, but the strange man stayed behind to help clean up. Sam could see, now that he was closer, how tired and put down the man was.

While studying the man, Sam accidentally knocked over a few pamphlets, and the stranger rushed over to help. After they cleaned up the mess, Sam extended his hand to the man.

"Sam Wilson."

The man carefully took it and responded "Phil."

"So, Phil, how long ago did you get shot?"

The man named Phil thought about it for a moment. "Stabbed, not shot."

Sam's eyes widened, but Phil continued. "I don't really know how long ago it was. After they got me breathing again, they stuck me in a grass hut in Tahiti for god knows how long."

"Tahiti?"

"It's a magical place. Until I learned the truth, that is." Phil shook his head.

"Well, I promise it will be alright. It might not seem like it now, but it will be." Sam was struck with an odd thought, but felt compelled to ask it. "You have a wife or kids?"

Phil laughed. "In my line of work? Nah, no wife, but I guess you could say that I had kids. I was sort of like their stand-in parent, guiding them in the right direction, teaching them everything that I had learned. Of course they had their own strengths. One was archery, the other knives and guns. Those two would drive me crazy, but boy, did I love them."

"You're saying this in past tense?"

"Everything's changed. We've had no contact after my injury, we weren't allowed. Now my director's got me set up with a new team of five, but after everything that's happened, we're just trying to survive."

Sam was puzzled by this statement, and was just about to ask him what he meant, when Phil's phone buzzed. He pulled it out, and Sam couldn't help but notice the Stark Industries logo on the case, and when Phil unlocked the phone, Sam saw as clear as day, the S.H.I.E.L.D. symbol. Sam pretended not to notice, but he saw Phil watching him, though he didn't say anything.

"That's actually my team now. Sorry Sam, but I've got to go. Thank you, for letting me vent. It's good to get it all out once in a while."

Sam shook Phil's hand, and gathered up his courage. As Phil turned away, Sam blurted out "Are you S.H.I.E.L.D., or HYDRA?"

At first Phil was a little shocked, but he quickly hid his emotions under an unreadable mask. Phil grabbed Sam by the shoulder, and pulled him close. Sam struggled slightly, intimidated, fearing he crossed the line. Therefore, he wasn't surprised when the threat came.

"I'm S.H.I.E.L.D., and you can bet your life on that. I've worked beside Director Fury my whole life, so no, I'm not HYDRA. I find it as an insult that you would think that. If you tell anyone. ANYONE. that I was here, I will find you, and I will taze you, alright?"

Sam nodded, and the man named Phil loosened his grip. Sam brushed his shoulders, and straightened his shirt.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Wilson."

Sam looked up, and was surprised to find Phil holding out a card as though nothing had happened.

"Keep me updated on Rodgers, okay?"

Sam looked puzzled, but took the card. On it was a number written in blue ink, with the name P. Coulson at the top, and the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo in the bottom right. Sam opened his mouth, but looked up, and the man named Phil was gone. Sam let out a shaky laugh, glanced around, then walked out of the room, slipping the card into his pocket.

Once he was sure that Sam was out of earshot, Coulson slipped out of the supply closet, shaking a spider from his arm. "How awesome can I get?" he mumbled to himself as he slipped on his sunglasses and he exited the building.


End file.
